A Necessary Evil
by Girl-of-Geekery
Summary: Merlin has sacrificed more for Arthur than he will ever know, not just because Arthur is destined to be a great king, but because he's his friend. Well, now its Arthur's turn – faced with a sacrifice of his own, Arthur must make a choice. The beliefs he has known since a child, that he was raised to believe…or Merlin? Set between seasons 4 and 5; major AU first in a 3 story series
1. Prologue

**Okay, so this is my first Merlin fic and I'm still learning my way around the character's heads, so I apologize for any OCCness that you mind. If you have any constructive criticism, please do share because I would love to really delve into the Merlin side of fanfiction, so any help to improve my portrayal of them would be much appreciated. :)**

**Hope everyone enjoys!**

**Much love, Girl-of-Geekery**

* * *

Merlin tensed, clenching the reins tighter and drawing himself up straighter in his saddle as the familiar dread crawled up his spine. Casting a quick glance around, however, showed only the knights and Arthur calmly riding on, unaware of any presence of danger.

He could see Percival throw him a curious look, but Merlin ignored him, not wanting to draw Arthur's attention.

"_You're being paranoid, Merlin."_ He would scoff. _"The only danger this close to Camelot is your clumsiness. The possibility that you might trip over your own feet and kill yourself on the way down is always a present danger."_

The young Warlock shook himself, focusing back on the trail. Despite what Arthur might say, there _was_ something wrong here. He could just feel it. Years of dealing with the dangers in Camelot, of running into bandits in the woods and fighting off crazy sorcerers bent on bringing about Camelot's doom, had taught him that.

Pretending to check the strap of his one of his mare's saddle bags, he snuck a glance over his shoulder, making sure there wasn't anything sneaking up behind him. But no, the trail was clear and bright, the sun casting a beautiful glow through the bright vibrant green of the leaves, giving off the very aura of peace and tranquility.

But instead of seeing the serenity of the beautiful forest, all Merlin could see were the shadows cast by the woods, the unnatural stillness of the grass, and the eerily silent trail behind them.

Biting back a nervous sigh, Merlin urged his steed a bit further so he was riding alongside Arthur; there was no way he was taking any chances.  
He didn't know what was waiting for them, but something sure was.

Arthur cast a glance his way, probably more than a little suspicious of Merlin's silence. He had been talkative for the better part of the morning as they saddled their horses and rode into the woods for their monthly hunting trip, kept up the chatter (much to Arthur's annoyance) as they rode into the woods…while they hunted…as they gathered their catches for the day. He had done his best to ignore the empty pit in stomach for the better part of the day, had tried to treat it like any other trip. But something just felt…different. From the moment he set foot out of his bed this morning there had been a terrible gnawing in his gut that told him _something_ was going to happen and, whatever it was, it wouldn't be pleasant. There was something coming, he could just a feel it; a strange shift in the air that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and left his nerves feeling restless. It felt like…change. Like there was a change coming, something big, something life changing. And it unnerved him.

He'd ignored the feeling as best he could, and had done a spectacular job of it if he did say so himself, right up until Arthur announced their return to Camelot. Suddenly the foreboding had returned full force and had only increased its insistence with every step that brought them nearer to entrance of the city.

They weren't far now…perhaps a twenty minute ride. They just had to ride the length of the trail and then they would be in the open fields and not far from that were Camelot's gates. If they could just make it that far, they would be fine.

Merlin resisted the urge to push his horse to move a bit faster; if they could just get to the gates soon…

"Merlin, are you ill?"

"No, sire, why do you ask?" He inquired distractedly, glancing to the woods again, swallowing thickly as his stomach twisted with nerves.

"In all the time I have known you, I don't believe you have ever been this quiet." Arthur continued, shaking his head.

"Yes, well, I thought I would give silence a try…you seem rather fond of it." He teased half-heartedly.

"Well…stop it. It's unnerving."

Merlin blinked, looking at the king. "Let me get this straight…when I talk, you tell me to be quiet…but when I don't talk, you're telling me to speak up?"

"Yes." The king confirmed without preamble.

"And am I to assume that if I suddenly were to resume my, as you so kindly call it, 'mindless chatter' you would again tell me to be quiet?"

Scowling as Gwaine chuckled at the truthfulness of Merlin's words, Arthur said, "Shut up, Merlin."

The young warlock scoffed. "I thought so."

"What _has_ got you so quiet, Merlin?" Arthur pressed, choosing instead to ignore the servant's cheek. "Silence, with you, never seems to be a good thing either way. Don't tell me you're thinking, you know how dangerous that is for you."

Merlin ignored the taunt, "I'm fine." He said, back tensing again at the ominous feeling that passed through the air.

"Now I _know_ something's wrong."

Sighing harshly, the warlock finally turned to the king, "Arthur, why don't you just—"

But Merlin's words were abruptly drowned out at the unexpected, deafening yell of at least a dozen or so voices.

Merlin jerked and quickly pulled at his reigns, his horse whinnying and bucking in protest at the movement and the sudden noise, as the group burst through the trees.

There was nearly a dozen of them, all armed to the teeth with swords, maces, and crossbows; they didn't waste a second to descend on them, weapons aimed and swinging.

Distantly Merlin could hear Arthur barking orders at his knights as they dismounted, drawing their swords from their sheaths and moving to meet the bandits in their attack. He paid no attention to the clang of the swords or the yells of the falling thieves as he hurried away, backing into the shadows out of sight as to hide the glowing of his golden irises as he aided the knights against the attack.

It wasn't too difficult. They may have been out-numbered and even out armed, but the petty thieves weren't much of a match for the training of the knights of Camelot and the powers of a sorcerer.

The falling of a branch here, the loosening grip on a sword there, and the rest he left to the more than capable knights. Still he kept an eye out; just because it was easy didn't mean they still weren't dangerous.

A rustle of leaves behind him, however, had him twirling on his heel. He caught a glimpse of an archer scrambling down out of one of the trees, heard the distant whistle of something traveling through the air, felt the thud against his chest followed by a painful sting.

He stumbled, tripping out from the shadows and back onto the trail, looking down in surprise at the arrow that had planted itself in his chest.

With wide eyes, he fingered the tuft at the end of the shaft as an odd mix of pain and numbness spread from the wound.

"Merlin!" The yell brought the young servant's head around sharply.

He took in the scattered bodies on the forest floor, before belatedly raising his gaze to look at the knights. They stood amongst the fallen bandits, but they only seemed to have eyes for Merlin himself. Wide, shocked eyes that fit well with the growing expressions of horror and slack jaws as they watched him; Leon and Percival frozen in place, their swords still hanging in mid-air as if they had forgotten they were still holding them, while Gwaine and Elyan dropped their weapons to their sides, the latter knight looking practically ill.

Merlin gave them a confused look, uncomprehending. His brain tried to make sense of what he was seeing…he knew there was a reason they were looking at him like that, he _knew _it. But he just couldn't get his sluggish brain to cooperate.

"Merlin…"

That voice again…except this time it wasn't a yell, but more of a horrified whisper.

He followed the voice, finally finding its owner. Usually vibrant blue eyes, now dulled in pain, met the shocked green ones of the king.

"Arthur…" he whispered, voice pained and a bit frightened as his vision started to blur, blackening at the edges as he swayed in place.

He caught a glimpse of the knights moving forward and felt Percival's strong grip on his upper arm, keeping his face from smacking the forest floor before his vision finally faded all together and he descended into blissful darkness.

* * *

**So, yeah, cliffhanger, sorry about that. :P The next chapter will be up in a week.  
I'm going to try (try being the key word here) to stick to that for most updates and update at least once a week. Two at most. If I fall behind, I do apologize, but I am job hunting right now and if I should (hopefully) get hired soon, that will obviously cut back on my writing time.**

**That being said, please to tell me what you think! I live for reviews :D**


	2. When Hope is Lost

**Okay, so here's the second chapter. This is pretty much in Arthur's POV and I've brought in some of the other characters - so lets hope I've still managed to maintain character with them. If not, constructive criticism is appreciated as always. :)**

**Also, I apologize for any grammar mistakes, I just did a really quick once over. If I get time to go over it again, I will, and I'll edit it if there are too many goofs.**

**That being said - enjoy, everyone! :)**

* * *

Arthur wasn't sure how they'd gotten here.

It had started out as such a good day. Such a _normal_ day.

Well, almost normal.

Breakfast had been normal, Gwen especially cheerful, the knights typically enthusiastic about their upcoming venture, and the hunt had went off without a hitch; the only unnatural thing had been Merlin's silence throughout the day.

Which was disturbingly ironic, Arthur thought, as that was the problem now.

Merlin – he was too silent and far too still. Not to mention much too pale; particularly in contrast to the bright red and sheer _amount_ of blood coating his coat and shirt collar now.

Arthur swallowed thickly and quickly tore his eyes away from the still servant propped against Gwaine on the horse beside him, his head flopping lifelessly with each clop, clop of the horse's quick gallop.

Not one of them needed to even consider the wound to know that there was nothing they could for their injured friend there; his best chance, if he had any at all, would be in Camelot with Gaius.

The knights, Arthur included, knew how to treat basic battlefield injuries – how to dress a wound, the best way to stop bleeding, or even how to create something to splint a broken bone. But this was out of their league.

Leave it Merlin to take an arrow to the _chest_.

Arthur sighed, narrowing his eyes and trying not to recall the sight that had met their shocked eyes when Merlin had stumbled from the woods.

Though it wasn't much use, Arthur decided; he was sure it would be ingrained in his nightmares for years to come.

The sound of the soft "thunk" of an arrow hitting a target, causing him to turn quickly and sag with relief for just a moment at seeing all of his knights still standing. The sight of Merlin stumbling backwards out of the trees and into the clearing. The feeling of the teasing words about the how the servant's clumsiness served him right for being his usual cowardly self and taking cover in the woods and leaving them to do the hard work catching in his throat as he had realized something was very wrong. Watching as Merlin finally turned to face them, responding to Arthur's call, and catching the first sight of the bright red blood already dripping from Merlin's wound and the arrow that was sticking out of the younger man's chest, making Arthur's stomach feel as if it had dropped to land somewhere down hear his feet and his heart stutter over the next several beats.

Arthur had the vague recollection of himself saying Merlin's name again and he thought Merlin might have said something in return, but he wasn't quite sure; his brain had felt frozen and stiff. Unable to process the scene before him, unable to move from the realization that Merlin had an arrow in his chest, unable to _think_.

He hadn't really been able to think straight for some time. He had moved forward out of simple instinct when the young man had fallen forward. But it had been Percival that had caught him though; Leon who had checked that he was still breathing, then inspected the wound and deemed it too severe for them to treat and conclude they needed Gaius; Elyan who had torn apart his cloak to press around the wound in attempt to stop at least some of the bleeding until then; and Gwaine who hadn't hesitated to pick up his friend and, with help from Percival, load him on his own horse, getting him in the best position to stop the bleeding and keep from falling off.

Arthur hadn't been much help for that, his brain not able to process the sight of his injured friend. It was ridiculous, it wasn't like he hadn't seen men struck by arrows before. It wasn't like he hadn't struck down men himself.

He had seen plenty of men struck during battle, seen many men die from such wounds.

And it wasn't like he hadn't seen Merlin injured before either. After it all, it had only been barley a year since Merlin had taken that mace to the chest (ironically, they had been attacked by bandits then, as well).

But this was different. One barely needed to glance at the wound to know it was bad and that the young man's fate was unsure at best.

Last time he had felt hope at least; it had been bad, but he had been at least fairly confident that Gaius would be able to help the young man heal. This however…a weight that had settled in Arthur's stomach told him things wouldn't be quite that easy.

Shaking himself, he straightened in his saddle and urged his horse just a bit faster. The sooner they returned to Camelot, the better.

The stares they received as the galloped through the gates, covered in blood and carting an injured servant, were anything but subtle. Many stopped short, eyeing the king and his knights as they quickly dismounted their horses, eased Merlin down from the saddle into Leon and Elyan's arms – Leon gripping Merlin by the under arms and supporting his head against this chest, and Elyan taking the younger man's legs and doing his best to support his back – and hurried into the castle. Arthur found he didn't much care at this point. He was sure the talk would start before they had even passed the threshold, the rumors of and speculations about the injured servant, the blood-covered knights, and the frantic king barking orders to the guards, but all that could wait. He had more important things to deal with now.

However, he did stop long enough to grip the arm of one of the guards at the bottom of the stairs leading to Gaius' chambers and give him orders to fetch Guinevere and have her wait for him in the throne room; he knew she wouldn't be able to bear hearing about one of her dearest friends' injuries through castle gossip.

He threw the door open to the physician's chambers without preamble and, flanked by Gwaine and Percival, rushed into to clear a path for their fellow knights and injured friend. Hoping Gaius would forgive them for the mess, they tossed aside books and moved potions from one of the nearest tables, leaving it clear for Merlin.

"Gaius!" Arthur yelled, grabbing a pillow of the nearest cot and tossing it to Gwaine to slide under Merlin's head as Leon and Percival eased him down on to the table. "Gaius!"

Arthur barely retained a growl of frustration as he spun in tight circle around the small room and craning his neck to glance up the stairs before finding the room empty.

Turning back to glance at his servant and feeling the blood drain from his face at how much paler Merlin looked all of sudden, he couldn't keep the panic from his voice as he growled, "Where _the hell _is he?"

"Right behind you, sire."

The response made the king start and turn quickly on his heels to see the aging physician standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised, undoubtedly, at the harsh tone.

But Gaius was no fool and, though his sight of Merlin was block by the circle of knights that had surrounded their friend, Arthur was sure he could take in the stricken look of the knights and the worry that had been behind Arthur's harsh words.

"Has something happened, Sire?" He asked, entering the room to deposit a basket that had some herb or other Arthur couldn't recognize and hurry over to the table.

"It's Merlin." The king hurried to say before the elder man could make his way there, trying to spare the man at least some of the shock at seeing his ward's injury.

Gaius faltered for all of a moment to toss a look over his shoulder at Arthur before quickly moving forward, the knights parting hastily to let the old man pass.

"Oh, Merlin." The sigh was filled with a pain as such Arthur had rarely heard from the elder man and he couldn't hold back a winch.

But Gaius was nothing if not a professional, and in seconds he was ordering them out the door, already gathering cloths and medicines to sterilize the wound, and requesting one of the servant's be sent up as soon as possible from the town center with several potions and a bucket of water.

"Isn't there anything we can do to help, Gaius?" Gwaine pressed as he hovered in the doorway, and Arthur paused too to look back over his shoulder, waiting.

Gaius shook his head ruefully, quickly unwinding a roll of bandages. "There's not much you can do, I'm afraid. Unless you want to fetch the water, Gwaine. All I really need is room to work and time."

Gwaine nodded, frowning sadly at the pale raven haired man on the table before ducking out the door and jogging down the stairs the other knights had already descended.

With a sigh, Arthur tore his eyes away from the physician and his ward and turned to follow; he paused once in the door way, on one hand gripping the doorway to brace himself as he hovered on the threshold, not daring to glance back as he spoke. "Gaius?"

"Sire?" The physician asked distractedly.

Arthur paused, needing to ask, but not sure he really wanted an answer. "Will he be alright?"

The older man paused and even from his place in the doorway Arthur heard his weary sigh.

"He…I will do everything I can, sire."

Swallowing thickly, Arthur nodded. "Of course." He whispered before speaking more loudly, "If there is anything he needs Gaius, please, let me know."

Without awaiting an answer, he grabbed the door's brass handle, pulling it closed behind him and making his way down the staircase. Dread it though he might, he couldn't put off speaking to Gwen any longer.

* * *

She was waiting for him when he entered the throne room, pacing the length between their thrones under the worried gaze of the two guards.

Upon his entrance, however, she stopped, shoulders practically sagging in obvious relief. "Arthur," she sighed. "What's happened?"

He met her deep brown eyes for a less than a moment before striding into the room, drawing in a breath as he did so.

"Leave us." He quietly ordered the guards.

They nodded, quickly ducking out and leaving the king and queen, the husband and wife, to their privacy.

"Arthur?" Gwen queried again, voice soft with apprehension.

Taking her by the shoulders gently and forcing his own eyes up to meet her worried gaze, he drew in a deep breath to brace himself for this. Gwen, his kind-hearted, loving Gwen...He needed to be strong for her. Not just as a king but, more importantly, as a husband.

"Guinevere." He squeezed her shoulders comfortingly, "I am afraid I have some bad news."

He felt her suppress the slightest of tremors. "Is it Elyan? Was he injured?"

He shook his head. "Elyan is fine…However, I am afraid Merlin was not quite as lucky." He said, hating how his voice wavered.

She gasped, hand quickly flying to her mouth as she did her best to suppress her horror.

As her deep brown eyes filled with tears, he tried to reassure her. "He's still alive, Gwen. But…"

Lowering her hand, she whispered, "But?"

"Gaius said he is going to do all he can." He informed her, voice firm. "And you know Gaius, he's is the best physician Camelot has ever seen, his best is rather spectacular. And it's Merlin, he will give his all to save him, you know he will. If Gaius—"

"Arthur." Gwen whispered, placing a gentle hand on his chest and he quickly stopped talking. "You're rambling." She informed quietly, and the unspoken "You only ramble when you're frightened" was left hanging in the air.

He sighed, letting his eyes slip close for a moment.

"Arthur…how bad is it? What happened?"

He felt Gwen move her hand from his chest to caress the side of his face in a comforting gesture. Leaning into her touch, he let his eyes open again and met her own as he answered. "He is quite badly injured, Gwen….He's taken an arrow to the chest." Her hand stilled as her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in silent horror.

Quickly reaching to take her hand, he grasped it in his own and pulled her quickly into a hug, knowing the inevitable breakdown was coming soon.

And sure enough, just as he had pulled her in close to him, she buried her head into his chest and let out a sob.

"Shh…" He soothed, stroking her long hair. "Shh, Gwen. It will be alright…Shh." He blinked back a few tears of his own. "It will be alright." He repeated. "This is Merlin, after all. Merlin's always alright. It's an annoying habit of his." He attempted with a weak chuckle.

"And if he is not?" She asked, pulling back just enough to turn her face away and place her ear over his heart.

Arthur winced, not even wanting to consider that possibility, but knowing it was a very real one. "Then…I don't know." He admitted in a whisper.

* * *

Arthur didn't sleep much that night. Or the next for that matter. Neither did Gwen for as much as she tried; he'd heard her during the late hours of the night, as he lay on his side and feigned sleep, start to cry. He'd said nothing as he'd turned and wrapped his arms around her and held her until she finally fell back into a restless sleep.

One of them should sleep, he had decided, because it certainly wouldn't be him. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see those familiar, frightened blue eyes and he'd pop back awake.

Gwaine had reported to them shortly before nightfall – no change. Gaius was doing all he could, but the elder man wasn't hopeful.

For a moment, Arthur thought Gwaine might join Gwen in her tears.

The knights had been handling the whole ordeal just about as well as Arthur felt he was – poorly.

By the second day, the news had spread through town and now several of the other knights and servants were hovering for news as well. Somehow, it really shouldn't have surprised him that Merlin had so many friends.

The first day had passed with no change; the second, when Arthur had finally braved making the climb up the stairway to the physicians chambers to check on his friend, only brought worse news – Gaius had done his best to stabilize him and had a few remedies that helped stop the bleeding and bring him around, but the older man hadn't appeared too optimistic by the development.

But Arthur wasn't going to give up yet. Because if Gaius still had options to try that meant that, just maybe, there was still hope for Merlin. After all, Arthur had never seen any quite as skilled as Gaius. Nor would anyone be quite so determined to save the younger man's life. If there was hope (and Arthur was certain there had to be), Gaius would have the answer.

Which was why, on the third day, when he'd visited Merlin again, Arthur was certain he had never been dealt a more staggering blow.

He had strode in with a quick knock, confident that today would bring change. It had been three days since Merlin was injured and if he was to be healed, it would be soon. In no time at all, Merlin would be back on his feet, bumbling about the castle as usual.

Those certain hopes, however, were pulled out from under him as soon as they had come when he was forced to stop dead before he had barely even passed the threshold at the sight of Gaius, looking more weary and worn than Arthur had ever seen him, sitting on the side of Merlin's cot, holding the boy's hand.

He gripped the doorway and paused – Gaius either hadn't heard him enter or was paying him no mind and suddenly Arthur felt as if he were intruding.

Swallowing, trying to un-stick his suddenly dry throat, he found the courage to ask. "Gaius? What's happened?"

The elder man was quiet so long, Arthur opened his mouth to speak again, but Gaius interrupted.

"I am afraid I have bad news, Sire."

Arthur's stomach dropped to land somewhere near his feet at the crack in the older man's voice.

"Gaius…"

"I've tried everything, Sire. Every remedy, potion, and procedure I can think of but…I am afraid the arrow was much too close to his heart…he's lost too much blood…There's nothing I can do for him."

Arthur's heart sunk to join his stomach as the physician turned to him with impossibly sad eyes to announce, "I am afraid he will be gone before the end of the week."

"End of the week?" Arthur queried quietly, eyes still resting on his friend.

Gaius nodded solemnly. "It's only a matter of time now…his heart isn't going to be able to endure the strain much longer I'm afraid."

"And you're certain…nothing can be done?" The king persisted.

"I have tried everything, Sire, the strain on his heart is just too great. There is nothing left to do, not in my power at least."

Arthur's eyes finally pulled from his friend to look at the physician; Gaius wasn't paying him any mind, his sole attention for the young man in the bed.

"What do you mean, Gaius?"

"Sire?"

"You said there was nothing left in your power. If not in your power, but…perhaps someone else?"

Gaius blinked at that and Arthur wondered if perhaps he had meant to say anything at all.

"I meant nothing by it, Sire."

Arthur's eyes narrowed; perhaps the past few days had just made him paranoid, but he was certain the court physician was lying to him.

"Are you certain, Gaius? Because if there is something that can be done for Merlin…then surely it is worth a try."

Gaius' silence was a bit longer this time as he stared at Arthur, seemingly having an inner debate with himself. For a moment, Arthur thought he might speak up this time, but he was, frustratingly wrong, when Gaius answered again in the negative.

Arthur drew in a deep breath, doing his best to reign in his impatience. He couldn't understand why Gaius would be so reluctant to share important information, information that may _save Merlin's life_.

"Gaius…" He growled warningly.

The old physician sighed and reached to rub his temple as he said, "There is one thing I can think of, Sire, only one. But—"

"Do it!"

"But, Sire—"

"Gaius, whatever it is, surely, if it will help Merlin, it cannot be that bad, can it?" At Gaius' pained expression, he asked warily, "What is it?"

"Arthur, to do this…we would need to consult someone with _magic_." Arthur blinked, opening his mouth to comment before snapping it shut again. Gaius continued for him. "There is a spell…I had seen it performed once in the days before the purge. It is very difficult, and those with ability to perform it are very rare…But I do know of one…I have not heard of her in many years, but I do believe she is still alive…She is the _only _one that can help Merlin now."

As silence fell between them, Arthur simply stared. He didn't speak, didn't move, barley even blinked back at the old physician.

After several tense, long moments, the young king turned on his heel, not even bothering to spare either of his friends a glance as he stalked from the room.

With a bone-weary sigh, Gaius' shoulders slumped. He had suspected Arthur's response would be as such; but when the young man had hesitated before out-right proclaiming magic's evil properties, he had hoped. Just for a moment, but he had hoped. Hoped and prayed that Arthur's care for his friend (because, certainly, he did consider Merlin a friend despite what he may say) would overcome his hatred for magic. But it looked like he was wrong.

Looking down at the pale boy before him, Gaius felt tears spring to his eyes again at the sight of the unnatural stillness of his ward.

Swallowing thickly, he placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder (trying to ignore how his skin felt even cooler than before) and whispered, "I am sorry, Merlin. Truly I am sorry."

* * *

**Okay, so yeah, still kind of a cliffhanger. But I'll try and have the next chapter posted next Thursday or Friday so everyone's not waiting too long. **

**Please leave a review! :)**


	3. Secret Keeping

**Okay, so this chapter is actually a scene or two shorter than I was intending, but I really wanted to get this up and give you guys something because I'm not sure when I'll be working on the next chapter. I had a job interview this weekend and was hired (thank ***!) and I have no idea what my schedule will be like just yet, so I'm not sure when I'll have time to work on the new chapter. **

**But I **_**will**_** work on it and try to keep to my once a week updates.  
Until then though, hope you guys enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

It was several hours later, just as the night was starting to fall and create elongated shadows over the courtyard causing many of the villagers to retreat to their homes to close up their windows and light their candles, that anyone visited Gaius' chambers again.

The old physician was grounding a few herbs in one of his mixing bowls as he sat by the glowing fire; they were for a painkiller for Merlin. He knew, in the long run, they would do nothing for the boy. But if he could nothing else, he would at least give as much comfort and ease from the pain as possible.

He nearly dropped the herbs, bowl and all, into the fire as the door to his chambers flew open, a quick hand only just stopping it from crashing into the wall and creating a ruckus.

Indignant, the old physician drew to his feet, ready to give a through talking to, to whoever thought it was a good idea to disturb the peace. "What on earth—" He paused, mouth snapping shut quickly at the sight of his visitor – he certainly hadn't expected to see him back anytime soon.

"Sire, is everything—"

"Can I trust you Gaius?" The young blond asked, quickly shutting the door behind him and stepping into the room.

Said man blinked, surprised at the question, but did not hesitate to answer. "But of course. Sire, might I ask—"

"So, if I ask you not to speak of something to anyone, and I do mean anyone, Gaius, even your most trusted…You will keep whatever matter we discuss to yourself?"

Cocking his head in confusion, Gaius answered again "Yes, Sire, of course."

Arthur nodded slowly before sighing and letting his eyes slip closed.

Worried, the court physician took a step forward, "Arthur...what is it exactly you wish to speak to me about?"

The young king sighed deeply and opened his eyes as he asked, "Gaius…where can I find the sorceress who will be able to help Merlin?"

The old physician blinked, "…Sire?"

"The sorceress…Where can she be found?"

The old physician stood in silence for a moment as he stared at the young king. Arthur shifted uncomfortably and didn't quite meet the older man's eyes.

"Gaius." Arthur prompted into the silence.

With a sigh, Gaius slowly lowered to a stool. "I…I have not seen her since the great purge, sire."

"But you know where she may be." It wasn't a question.

"I have an idea, yes." Gaius nodded his agreement. "She had a younger brother; she always spoke fondly of him…He lived in a small village just outside of Camelot, near the north. I believe if she were to go anywhere, it would be to him."

Arthur chewed at his lip, assimilating this information. "North…that would be near Aremand's kingdom." He spoke more to himself than to his friend, "I believe I know the place you are speaking of." Raising his eyes to Gaius, he asked. "Do you think she will still be there?"

The man shrugged, replying honestly. "I do not know, Sire. It has been many years. She may have moved on, she could have passed away…she may never have been there at all."

"But if there is a chance it rests with her and therefore in the northern village." Arthur concluded.

Gaius nodded. "She is the only one with the power, Sire. If anyone is able, it will be her."

"Right then. What do you remember of her, Gaius? Do you recall her name? Or perhaps what she looked like? Something that I may recognize her."

"Amilla. She has no doubt changed in the time since I have seen her; it has been over twenty years, sire." Gaius frowned, "However, I do recall her possessing a scar – something she had acquired as a child. On her wrist, it was in the shape of a small cross as I recall."

Arthur nodded to himself. "That should be enough to go on, then. We should be able to find her without too much difficulty."

The physician raised a brow in surprise, "Find her, Sire?" He questioned.

He tried not to hope as Arthur fidgeted slightly and, for the first time since arriving, Arthur's eyes fell on Merlin.  
The younger man frowned, no doubt noticing how much paler Merlin had become even in the few hours since his departure. Brow creased, the young man stared at his friend for a long moment and then, though his eyes never left the young warlock's face, answered Gaius.

"Yes, I will be setting out first thing tomorrow." He paused, watching the unsteady rise and fall of Merlin's chest, before adding. "Watch over until I return, will you, Gaius?"

"Of course, Sire. You needn't ask."

Arthur nodded, his lips quirking in a smile ever so slightly before he turned to leave.

Pausing in the doorway, he glanced back over his shoulder. "And Gaius…remember what I said…"

"Not a word, Sire."

Nodding once, Arthur left, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Arthur paced, a horrible feeling twisting in his gut. Every fiber of his being was screaming how wrong this was; he could only imagine what his father would have to say about this.

He sighed and massaged his acing temples as he paused in front his own head chair at the, for now, empty round table.

This plan was just a disaster waiting to happen. How many times had magic proven, over and over, that it could cause nothing but heartache and pain for all involved? The dark forces only served to corrupt and darken the souls of all those who tempted their fate with it. Morgana was the epitome of this.

How many times had magic nearly brought about the destruction of the kingdom? How many times had magic caused betrayal, deceit, and hurt? Had cost lives?

So why was he doing this now? Why was he putting his trust in something so absolutely untrustworthy? Something that had caused him and his people nothing but loss?

_Because it's Merlin_, a little voice reminded him.

That voice was getting infuriating; no matter how many questions he asked, the answer was always the same – Because it's Merlin.

Bumbling, awkward, optimistic, caring Merlin.

Though, truly, if he were being honest with himself that was the only answer that was needed.

Certainly, for as simple as an answer it was, it was an indisputable one.

For every "What am I doing, trusting magic?" there was an immediate "What will happen, if I leave Merlin to die?"

He couldn't imagine, didn't want to imagine what would happen if Merlin were to die. And without a doubt if he didn't do _something_ that was exactly what was about to happen. And soon.

And, surprising even to himself to a degree, he found when he looked at his choices – magic or Merlin –Merlin's fate was the unacceptable choice.

He wasn't happy to be dabbling in such dark forces, but he found that if it meant Merlin would live…it was worth it.

The sound of the great doors swinging open and of footsteps drew his attention around and he watched as his knights entered and took their seats – the four closest to the head of the table.

The silence they brought with them in comparison to the usual loud voices as they chatted away and laughed when each other's company was sobering and, knowing the reason to be Merlin's current state, he knew he had made a right choice in entrusting them.

Clearing his throat, he began, "I brought you here because you are my most trusted…my most loyal knights…and because I know you all care for Merlin." At the young servant's name, the knight's heads snapped up, various degrees of surprise flittering across their faces, but Arthur continued without pausing. "And because of this, I know that if there are any I can trust with this…it will be you four."

He stopped his pacing to pause behind his seat and grip its back. "What I am about to tell you requires the utmost sensitivity…no-one is to know of this, not even the other knights, is that understood?" He waited for his knights to nod their agreement. "Good."

"Uh, Arthur?"

Said man held back a sigh, almost afraid of what Gwaine was going to say…he wasn't quite sure what to expect from the normally loud-mouthed knight who had been disturbingly silent and these past few days.

But still, he asked, "Yes, Sir Gwaine?"

"May I ask _why_ we're keeping secrets?"

Arthur didn't hesitate to answer. "Because we are going to be breaking a few _dozen_ laws of Camelot…some of which would most assuredly would lead to death if we were to be caught."

Gwaine's mouth closed with a sharp snap as the other knights shared a few wary looks.

"I am not going to force any of you; if you wish to back out, you are free to do so without fear of repercussions." Arthur assured quickly.

"I have another question." Gwaine spoke up, actually raising his hand like a young school-child.

Sighing, Arthur closed his eyes briefly as he braced himself. "Yes?"

"What does this have to do with Merlin?"

All four of the knights turned to look at Arthur expectantly and he drew himself up to stand straighter, letting go of his grip on the back of his chair and letting his arms drop to his sides.

He strode forward to stand at the very head of the table, back straight. "Gaius believes he has found a way to help Merlin, however, we—"

"Then what are we waiting for?" Gwaine asked quickly, already jumping from his seat.

Arthur sent him a look. "It's not that simple, Gwaine."

"Of course it is! This is Merlin we're talking about!"

Percival, thankfully, reached up to gently tug his friend and fellow knight back into his seat, shooting him a look as he did so. _Let Arthur finish._

Nodding his thanks, Arthur continued. "Gaius says there is one…a woman…she can help Merlin. Last he heard of her, she was living in a small village within the borders of King Aremand's kingdom. King Aremand is a good friend to Camelot, we should have no trouble in our journey there." He was stalling, and they all knew it.

"But, Sire," Leon spoke up into the short silence, "how will she be able to help Merlin? I thought Gaius said…he said that there was nothing that could be done. What more can this woman do that Gaius could not?"

Painfully clenching one of his hands, Arthur spoke, "Magic."

The silence was almost deafening and Arthur was sure, had his knights been lesser men, a few of them may have fainted from sheer shock. The muteness carried on for several horrible moments until Arthur was about ready to bang his head on the table just to break the silence; finally (thankfully), Elyan spoke up. "But, Arthur, wh-what…why—"

Arthur held up a hand and the knight sputtered to a stop. "Look, I don't like this anymore than the rest of you…possibly even less than the rest of you." He admitted, eyes flashing at the thought of his father's demise. "But there is no other choice…." Swallowing, he added. "If Merlin is to live, we need her help."

"And if she does not agree to help?" Leon asked.

Arthur nearly winced at that, he had been putting all his strength into _not _contemplating that thought, however possible it may be. After all, what sorceress would trust those of Camelot? "Then there is nothing we can do." He admitted regretfully.

The knights shared a look and Arthur continued quickly. "Look, it's a long shot. There is every possibility she will choose not to help…Hell, she might not even be there anymore! She could be dead by now for all we know. There is no guarantee…it will most likely be dangerous…and if we succeed we will be breaking rules of Camelot. But if we are to help Merlin, I see no other option. If you have any other ideas, please, share."

The knights remained silent as he knew they would, so he carried on. "I already told you, I will not hold it against you if you choose not to go...The choice is entirely up to you."

He stood, waiting, as the knights shared a meaningful look before rising from their seats as one and turning to face the king.

Speaking for the first time, Percival asked "When do we leave?"

* * *

**Despite the sad situation (I know, I'm horrible to Merlin for putting him on his death bed), I actually really had fun writing this chapter. I got to work more with the knights and I the scene between Arthur and Gaius actually came fairly easily.**

**Hope you guys had as good a time reading as I did writing it! Leave me a review and let me know how I'm doing! **


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